Home is Where
by ObsidianJade
Summary: "Maru spilled some of your secrets to the kid, who now thinks we're all sad and lonely." Dusty wasn't wrong, but they'd be putting out fires with fresh-fallen snow before Blade would admit it. A little angsty-fluffy peek into Piston Peak Air Attack. One-shot.


**Notes:** This sequence was originally part of my large, ongoing Cars work, The Epic Cars Fanfiction (Explicitly Not 'OF DOOM') (yes, my working titles really are _that bad_ ) but when I elected to move said work into my _Hallowed_ 'verse, which includes _The Truth In Old Saws_ and its sequel, _All Hallowed_ , this became unsuitable due to the _Hallowed_ verse's supernatural aspects. And Nick. (So very many things are Nick's fault. Really.) While I'm also reworking this to suit the _Hallowed_ 'verse, I really like the original and wanted to preserve it.

 **Warnings** for brief instances of PTSD attack/flashback (Cabbie) and a passing mention of suicidal intentions (Blade, as detailed in _Saving Tomorrow_ ).

 **Disclaimer** : The World of Cars and all related characters and settings are property of Disney/Pixar. No claims of ownership or money is made from this work.

* * *

 **HOME IS WHERE...**

The Piston Peak Air Attack Base was... very different, in the off season.

For one thing, it was a lot quieter. Patch and Dipper were both off-base at training conferences, the Smokejumpers were somewhere in the park doing some joint operation with the Park Rangers that Blade had not been at all specific about, and Windlifter had apparently gone home for the weekend.

"What do you mean, home?" Dusty asked, when Cabbie informed him of that over dinner. Blade himself was out on the lookout again, leaving only Dusty, Cabbie, and Maru on the base proper. "I thought you guys all lived here?"

"We do when our _not_ being on base poses a significant risk of people burning to death," Maru answered, a cup of coffee balancing precariously on the tip of one tine. It was six-thirty at night, and the caffeine content of the Base's tar-black coffee was best not considered. Absently, Dusty wondered if Maru ever actually _slept_.

"Off-season, not so much," Maru continued, taking a sip of the overcooked coffee. "Wind's family house is a little while from here, so he splits his time. Blade owns a condo in L.A. that I don't think he's set eyes on in twenty years, and Patch has a place that she sublets during the season. The Jumpers still visit their families when they can - the fact that they're all back here this early is the weird part. The rest of us..." Maru shrugged and drained his cup in two swallows. "The base is as much of a home as a lot of us are ever gonna get, now."

"Well, that's..." a long moment of mental groping failed to turn up a term that would be both accurately descriptive and not completely insulting.

"Depressing? Pathetic? Making you grateful for Propwash Junction and several other things you're trying not to say out of consideration for our feelings?" Maru, being Maru, didn't care much whether or not it was completely insulting.

"Um. Pretty much, yeah." Feeling distinctly awkward, Dusty glanced sideways at Cabbie, who would have been doing a very convincing job of pretending to ignore the conversation if Dusty hadn't been quite so familiar with Skipper and the body language inherent to military aircraft.

"Don't get pitiful on my account," the warplane huffed, taking another sip of his oil. "Trust me, what we've got here is good."

"I don't doubt that, I really don't," Dusty answered, knowing his twitching ailerons were betraying his nerves. "It's just that... don't you guys ever want..."

"White picket fence and two-point-five?" Cabbie offered, his voice neutral and one eyebrow raised. When Dusty dipped his nose in agreement, Cabbie settled a little lower on his landing gear and traded a glance speaking glance with Maru, who shrugged broadly enough that his mug nearly overbalanced and rolled off to rummage in one of the cabinets.

Cabbie scowled heartily at the forklift's bumper before turning his gaze back to Dusty with a sigh. "A lot of us did, once. Some of us get lucky, some of us don't, and some of us it was never in the cards for anyway. We accept that camaraderie and friendship is the best we're gonna get."

"But that's -"

"The end of this discussion," Cabbie answered, voice firm but not angry, and rolled quietly out, leaving Dusty staring after him, trying to work out whether or not he needed to go apologize.

"He and Blade are two that weren't lucky, you realize."

Dusty twitched sharply, not realizing that Maru had gotten quite so close to him again. The little tug was right under his starboard wing, and had refilled his cup with something that smelled a whole lot more potent than the overcooked brew in the coffee pot. Apparently, Maru's ability to hide high-grade on the base hadn't been exaggerated.

"They both, um...?"

"Blade lost Nick, you know that. Had to talk him out of following Nick down." The glance Maru shot him warned Dusty that he was not to mention that, ever. "I don't know Cabbie's particulars, but he's got baggage from the wars that even the 'Jumpers can't outweigh. If he ever explains it to you, it means you're more privileged than anyone I know."

"I should have him talk to Skipper," Dusty murmured absently, more thinking aloud than actually intending to speak. Maru, in the midst of tilting a bottle over Dusty's cup, made an inquiring noise.

"My flight trainer. He's ex-military, too."

Maru side-eyed the Jolly Wrenches insignia on Dusty's nose for a moment before replying. "Lot of history?"

Dusty weighed his answer for a moment, took a swig of his hot cocoa, and nearly choked. The hooch Maru had added made jet fuel taste like grounder gas. "Glendal Canal," he answered, coughing. Maru had kept Blade's history safe for this long; he could be trusted with Skipper's as well.

"Chrysler," Maru muttered, and took a swig straight from the bottle.

"He didn't fly after that," Dusty said softly, taking another mouthful from his cup, a little more carefully. He didn't choke this time, but he still had to cough his next few words out. "Not for decades." Pausing to catch his breath, he added quietly, "Not until he had to save my life."

His lopsided smile grim, Maru raised his mug. "Well, I for one am glad he did. Here's to heros."

* * *

Outside of the hanger, Cabbie listened to the faint clack of their mugs and Dusty's wheezing coughs, apparently having - unwisely - followed Maru's example and draining his drink. Kid was going to have one hell of a headache in the morning - Maru's high-grade was virtually lethal if you didn't have either the constitution or the body mass for it. Windlifter could put away enough to stagger even Cabbie despite being half his weight, and Maru could probably have run on the damn stuff without blinking, but Dusty rarely even drank the mid-grade that Blade allowed on base.

Tomorrow was going to be... interesting. On a few levels, actually. While he'd known about Blade's history, he hadn't known about Dusty's trainer. Glendal Canal was a horror story that recruits in every branch of the military repeated to one another. Mostly to press the importance of gathering proper intel, although the smarter ones would realize it could also serve to tell you that your superiors didn't always know best.

Cabbie hadn't been that smart at the time. He'd figured it out the hard way, watching scorched fragments of plating get bundled under American flags.

The memories surged up for a moment, until he could almost smell burnt metal and spilled fluids again, hear the whistling shriek of artillery, the explosions loud enough in his memory that they almost drowned out the click of his radio in the present.

It took three clicks before he could shake himself loose of the memories and answer, but Blade's voice on the other end settled him almost instantly. His teammates here at the base were the closest thing he had to stability in a life that revolved around chaos.

 _*Spying again?*_ Even flattened out by the radio, Blade's sarcastic drawl was unmistakable. Huffing under his breath, Cabbie unlocked his wheels and rolled silently away from the main hanger, hunkering down under his camouflage netting before responding.

"It's called gathering intelligence," he shot back, once he'd settled. From here, the buildings blocked the sightlines to the overlook, so he didn't have to contend with watching Blade roll his eyes at him.

 _*Suuuure it is. Those two idiots gossiping about anything interesting?*_

"Us, mostly." There was a flat click from Blade's end, almost certainly unintentional and definitely an indication of surprise. "Maru spilled some of your secrets to the kid, who thinks we're all sad and lonely."

Blade's snort carried clearly over the radio. Dusty wasn't wrong, but they'd be putting the fires out with fresh-fallen snow before Blade would admit it.

"Oh, and Dusty's not going to be flying tomorrow morning."

 _*Let me guess.*_ The sigh was implied more than expressed, and Cabbie bit back his smirk. Maru's high-grade was the only real argument between their Chief and their Chief Mechanic - _only_ mechanic, but he was worth a team of lesser talent - and the fights had gotten ugly in the past. Depending on precisely how staggered Dusty was in the morning, tomorrow could get... loud.

Cabbie made a mental note to send Windlifter a heads-up on the show. Also, to see if he still had any popcorn.

~ END ~


End file.
